Roman Case Histories and their Influence on Medieval Islamic Clinical Accounts
Article (PDF Available) in Social History of Medicine 12(1):19-43 · May 1999

DOI: 10.1093/shm/12.1.19 · Source: PubMed

C Alvarez Millan

Abstract

The medieval Islamic medical tradition was the direct heir of Classical and Hellenistic medicine thanks to an unprecedented movement of translation into Arabic, commentaries and systematizations of Greek scientific texts. In the process of assimilation, not only theoretical principles, but also literary models of presenting medical knowledge were adopted, amongst them the case history. Since the clinical account can be used as a tool for medical instruction as well as an instrument for professional self-promotion, this study seeks to investigate which purpose most motivated Islamic physicians, and to demonstrate the extent to which they were influenced by the stylistic patterns which served them as a model. This article comprises an analysis of the context, literary devices and purpose of case histories of the Epidemics, Rufus of Ephesos and Galen, and compares them with those by the tenth-century Islamic physician Abu Bakr Muhammad b. Zakariya al-Razi. Author of the largest number of case histories preserved within the medieval Islamic medical literature, al-Razi's clinical records constitute an instrument with which to study and expand medical knowledge as well as providing useful material for students' medical training. Although al-Razi fused elements from the sources which served him as a model, he did not emulate Galen's use of the clinical history to assert himself in order to gain authority and prestige, but remained faithful to the Hippocratic essence.

Algernon Charles Swinburne and the Philosophy of Androgyny, Hermaphrodeity, and Victorian Sexual Mores

Jessica Simmons '07, English and History of Art 151, Brown University, 2004

[Victorian Web Home —> Pre-Raphaelitism —> Authors —> A. C. Swinburne]

he Victorian Aesthetic avant-garde sought to question the socially encrypted structure of morality, whose suitability comes into question by means of the avant-garde's ability to stretch and ultimately associate the socially accepted with the perverse and grotesque. Algernon Charles Swinburne, described by George du Maurier in 1864 as "the most extraordinary man," however a "little beast" with "an utterly perverted moral sense" (quoted by Morgan 61), exhibited a poetic fascination with the complex nature of the perverse and the grotesquely unacceptable, which he, in a Baudelairien fashion, attempted to redirect as "an avant-gardist aesthetic declaration" (61). William Michael Rossetti, in a critique of Swinburne's Aesthetic compilation Poems and Ballads, stated that "the offences to decency are in the subjects selected — sometimes too faithfully classic, sometimes more or less modern or semi-abstract — and in the strength of the phrase which the writer insists upon using" (Rossetti 36). Swinburne's Poems and Ballads "retains a capacity to shock readers" by means of its stark references to "a variety of perversities" (Dellamora 69). As Rossetti stated, "the offences to decency are in the subjects selected," because "of positive grossness and foulness of expression there is none" (Rossetti 36). Thus, the dense allusiveness of the language within this compilation allows for Swinburne's work to maintain a sense of ambiguity, while still expressing and developing the Victorian idea of the morally grotesque.

These grotesque "offences to decency" emerged from the strict nature of nineteenth century Victorian moral tendencies, of which "no century was more conscious," that some of the most daring artists of the Aesthetic movement exploited and explored. "Perhaps, too, this is the measure of its aesthetic achievement: great art is in its essence revolutionary and to revolt there must be something to rebel against" (Hare x). Within Poems and Ballads, Swinburne's controversial immoral tendencies reveal themselves most descriptively by his beautification of images and themes relating to the sexually perverse and grotesque that specifically question or deny traditional Victorian mores regarding gender roles and sexual practices — specifically forms of androgyny and hermaphrodeity. At the center of these perversions,

Swinburne signals the body to be the locus of mingled sensations, fantasy, and reverie that may be "masculine" or "feminine" in connotation — or both. Since the hermaphrodite has both male and female sexual characteristics, possibilities of confusion and variety in sexual object are broached. [Dellamora 71]

Thus, by means of the study of the layered meanings and connotations of the term androgyny, "or literal hermaphrodeity" (69), and its appearances both literally and figuratively within Swinburne's Poems and Ballads, most specifically in "Fragoletta" and "Hermaphroditus," one can successfully trace Swinburne's sexual, philosophical and psychological explorations of the Victorian definition of the perverse and grotesque within this specific body of work.

However, to accomplish this, one must first clarify the various connotations and layered meanings of the term androgynous. Within this study, the term androgynous encompasses figurative and literal interpretations of the various forms and types of knowledge and ideas regarding human biology, gender-specific social associations and sexual practices that evolved and transformed during the latter half of the nineteenth century. Thus, androgynous will be utilized as a general term to connect the various intellectual trends that permeated cultural ideas and associations at the time of the conception and application of aesthetic artistic practices. Although not specifically connected with the sexually grotesque nature of Swinburne's work, two illustrations by Aubrey Beardsley, an illustrative and literary artist also associated with the Aesthetes of the late nineteenth century, provide a compelling visual example of androgyny and hermaphrodeity that allows one to place these concepts within the timeframe of Swinburne's working era. Indicative or emblematic of the presence of the androgyne in nineteenth century Victorian society, Wendy Bashant describes these two illustrations of "a double-sexed being", Hermaphroditus and The Mirror of Love respectively, within her essay "Redressing Androgyny: Hermaphroditic Bodies in Victorian England":

The early picture is of a figure wrapped in cloth. . . . The adolescent breasts on the early picture seem misdrawn and downright awkward. The androgyne could be both sexes, or either, perhaps even neither: its flesh and sex seem irrelevant to the artist. The sex of the latter picture, however, is clear. Unlike the figure wrapped in cloth, this body defiantly open its arms, demanding that its audience examine its body. [5]

Although both figures are double-sexed, the fact that the latter figure exhibits a clearer sexual differentiation portrays the shift in attitude and perception of gender roles from the eighteenth to the nineteenth centuries, and reveals as well the consequence of the scientific developments of the nineteenth that advocated for stronger sexual divisions based on biological findings (Lee) . At the close of the eighteenth century, the Romantic philosophy of the unification of opposites, and the Saint-Simonion doctrine of societal reconstruction based on gender equality ("society should be androgynous") "seemed to suggest that the march towards unity was nearing an end" (Bashant 5). As Coleridge stated, "every power in nature and in spirit must evolve an opposite, as the sole means and condition of its manifestation: and all opposition is a tendency to re-union" (quoted by Bashant 5). Thus, the term androgynous encompass the revolutionary and figurative idea of asexuality (by means of equality) within traditional social and gender constructions in addition to the more literal interpretation of the term as relating to something that is physically asexual. The earlier Beardsley illustration, Hermaphroditus, pictorially illustrates this stance on societal androgyny through the distinct ambiguity of the seated figure. With tousled hair that bears no resemblance to the visual appearance of that of a man or a woman, as well as muscular arms, small breasts, slouched positioning and ambiguous facial features, the figure truly seems to be a physical manifestation of Coleridge's intellectually androgynous statement that "every power in nature and in spirit must evolve an opposite, as the sole means and condition of its manifestation: and all opposition is a tendency to re-union."

However, this emphasis on the mingling and unification of opposite forces never truly materialized in the revolutionary manner that such a statement seems to ordain, as the influx of scientific jargon in the nineteenth century revolving around the terms biology and sexuality implied a re-separation of opposites, and a maintenance of their respective contrasting spheres of existence. Thus, androgyny became the antithesis of accepted sexual, medical and social ideologies, and the term's association with the perverse and the grotesque within conventional realms of moral discourse can be viewed as more substantial as divisive language became even more prominent within the conversations revolving around gender roles and sexual practices.

In . . . the nineteenth century, words like biology and sexuality appeared. The former designated the physical organization — the separate parts and components that comprised life. The latter, sexuality, also suggested that the world was not returning towards a utopian One, a place where words that designated diversity were unnecessary. Instead the notion of sexuality — diversity in the human race — suggested that the world was composed of more distinctions. [Bashant 6]

These physical distinctions between man and woman translated into the very literal distinctions between the role of each, as Coleridge's idea of intellectual androgyny — "all opposition is a tendency to re-union" — became and remained insignificant in the realm of sexual and gender-specific politics. Associating the androgyny of society with the terror of the perverse and grotesque, the notion of an equally balanced being consisting of the unification of both male and female parts became a fabrication, as an androgyne "mixes masculine and feminine gender traits in such a way as to become a phallic woman. This monstrosity reflects in turn the monstrosity of . . . Terror itself" (Bashant 6). The idea of gendered norms became a socially structured means of enforcing morals, and any women "who would fain unsex themselves to make addled men" would in turn become an androgynes, figures of displaced and therefore perverted norms, "a thing as vile as addled eggs" (6). Thus, the androgyne represents the grotesque: not just the literal combination of both sexes as defined in the physical form, but the figurative representation of the manly woman — the woman seeking sexual and gender equality (or sex with one of an equal gender).

Since the term androgynous can be interpreted as a characteristic of literal or figurative qualities related to the defiance of or the antithesis of traditional gendered norms in terms of physical characteristics (literal hermaphrodeity), and gender-specific relations (gender equality), the term can be applied to sexual orientations and practices as well, as desire based on same-sex relations violated conventional gender and sexual roles and therefore remained a Victorian moral perversity. "Several influential studies of Victorian sexual behaviours and attitudes towards sexualities assume that male-male desire, presumably leading to genital contact, is a pathological 'perversion' and further assume that the Victorians themselves thought it as such" (Morgan 62). As a homosexual was considered an androgyne, this additional moral perversion further stratified the roles regarding sexual relations and behaviors between men and woman, as the differences between each became more apparent and emphasized. Thus, the latter Beardsley illustration, The Mirror of Love erases any traces of ambiguity and allusiveness that seem to define the earlier Hermaphroditus, thus emphasizing the explicit differentiations between the sexes that gendered norms dictated. While still an androgyne, the sex of the figure in Mirror is clear, and as it opens it arms "defiantly . . . demanding that the audience examine its body" it becomes a symbol for the dual form and meaning of androgyny in Swinburnian Aesthetic literature and in conventional Victorian society respectively: "its sterile, super-sexual body . . . becomes both monster and god, both deformity and possibility" (Bashant 5). This androgyne, both discreet and unified and defiantly perverse, reveals itself in a variety of ways within Poems and Ballads, but these perverse and poetic "offences to decency" are most traceable specifically within "Fragoletta," "Hermaphroditus."

The dual beautification and affirmation of both bisexuality and androgyny/hermaphrodeity reveals itself within "Fragoletta," where the narrator "sees a being more beautiful than an ordinary woman" (Bashant 11), who exhibits obvious androgynous qualities:

O Love! What shall be said of thee?

The son of grief begot of joy?

Being sightless, wilt thou see?

Being sexless, wilt thou be

Maiden or boy? [1-5]

Swinburne begins with a glorification and a curious exploration of the "sexless . . . maiden or boy," and continues to embark on the contradictions inherent in a topic dealing with the unification of two differing sexes: "son of grief begot of joy?", "being sightless wilt thou see?", "being sexless wilt thou be maiden or boy?". The narrator's innocently perverse interest in the beautiful sexless creature, that is his philosophy of androgyny as primordial sexlessness (Landow) remains apparent by means of Swinburne's utilization of the interrogative form, as the mysterious nature of the hermaphrodite seems to transcend the human realm with its subtle, perplexing beauty. As the narrator questions and perplexes over the presence of opposites in one being, "what fields have bred thee, or what groves concealed thee, O mysterious flower?". This curiosity is emblematic of the exploration of an object considered perverse or grotesque within the narrator's cultural surroundings, and as the work progresses, Swinburne seems to bask in the beautiful perversion of his own subject matter by means of his use of sexually-driven images and violent, even cannibalistic language. This progression begins with his introduction of the word blood — "ambiguous blood" — which he repeats throughout the work, his description of the physical unification of a hermaphroditic figure, and his description of the culmination of a forbidden sexual act:

I dreamed of strange lips yesterday

And cheeks wherein the ambiguous blood

Was like a rose's — yea,

A rose when it lay

Within a bud. [6-10]

By means of implying that hermaphroditic genitalia draws comparisons with "a rose when it lay within a bud," the allusiveness and subtleties of his language become apparent, as does the content of Rossetti's critique that "of positive grossness and foulness of expression there is none. The offences to decency are in the subjects selected" (Rossetti 36). The progression of the perverse continues as Swinburne "dares the censor's scissors" (Dellamora 70), by means of his offensive poetic discourse within "Fragoletta." Thus, he "creates poetic fantasies of male-male genital activity" (70) that are concealed under the guise of his beautification of language and his utilization of natural imagery and other forms of diction typical to Pre-Raphaelite and Aesthetic love poetry — "kiss," "breathe," "sweet life," "sweet leaves," "desire," "delight," "eyesight," "fire," "day and night," . . . etc:

I dare not kiss it, let my lip

Press harder than an indrawn breathe,

And all the sweet life slip

Forth, and the sweet leaves drip,

Bloodlike, in death.

O sole desire of my delight!

O sole delight of my desire!

Mine eyelids and eyesight

Feed on thee day and night

Like lips on fire. (16-25)

Initially, these two stanzas do not seem to imply homosexual erotic activity, however; "imagery of fellatio in 'Fragoletta'" (Dellamora 70) remains allusively apparent within phrases such as "let my lip press harder than an indrawn breathe and all the sweet life slip forth, and the sweet leaves drip" and "feed on thee day and night, like lips on fire." The passionate nature of the eroticism of this forbidden androgynous creature, as well as that of the forbidden sexual act, culminates with Swinburne's gentle description of the pleasure of the encounter. As the narrator instructs, "lean back thy mouth of carven pearl, let thy mouth murmur like the dove's." The narrator continues with an expressed curiosity and sense of passion for the androgyne that implies the figurative unification of the two figures, the Coleridgeian idea that "all opposition is a tendency to re-union," as well as the literal sexual unification of the androgynous figure: "Thy barren bosom . . . turns my soul to thine and turns thy lip to mine, and mine it is." However, the work's progression to perversity abruptly relinquishes the chance of unification, as "the wholeness culminates, not in orgasm, but in subsumption" (Bashant 12). By means of Swinburne's violent and sadomasochist terminology that "ends the negated being," the "poet turns to vampire . . . and the super-creative, bisexual body becomes associated with cannibalism" (12):

Nay, for thou shalt not rise;

Lie still as Love that dies

For the love of thee . . . [58-60]

. . . And where my kiss hath fed

Thy flower-like blood leaps red

To the kissed place. [63-65]

Thus, within "Fragoletta," the term androgynous remains applicable in terms of the obvious homoerotic content that threatened traditional sexual mores, the allusion to the figurative unification of being in an androgynous and ideal state, and the physical and literal androgyny and hermaphrodeity of the glorified figure, whose perfect unified beauty symbolically surpassed that of the divisive and gender-specified ideal of the narrator's imagined cultural surroundings.

"Hermaphroditus" presents the idea and physical manifestation of androgyny and hermaphrodeity in a similar way, however, the focus tends to associate these terms with blind love as well as symbolic unification. Within this work, Swinburne alludes to two other pieces of art and literature respectively: Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini's statue, Hermaphroditus, to which he dedicates the poem, and Ovid's tale in Metamorphosis, which he introduces at the end of the work (Bashant 12). "The statue itself is desire incarnate. From one angle it looks like a seductive female nude. Other angles conceal the face while revealing the body parts. The statue could anachronistically be called alluring, uncastrated female flesh" (12). "Hermaphroditus," while depicting the allure of the flesh of the androgyne as well as the underlying symbol of its unification, differs from "Fragoletta" in the fact that it also illustrates the final renunciation of desire typical of Pre-Raphaelite love poetry. "Throughout much Pre-Raphaelite love poetry, a dialectic of desire and renunciation is at work thematically. Whether a depicted passion is visceral or idealized, its object and therefore any fulfillment of desire are almost always unattainable" (Harrison). The work begins with a strong descriptive sense of desire for the androgyne, however, the presence of Swinburne's allusive and vague language foreshadows the ultimate desperate curse of blind love, the only kind of love that this androgynous being can cherish:

Lift thy lips, turn around, look back for love,

Blind love that comes by night and casts out rest;

Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,

Save the long smile that they are wearied of.

Ah sweet, albeit no love be sweet enough,

Choose of two loves and cleave unto the best;

Two loves at either blossom of thy breast . . .

Fire in thine eyes where thy lips suspire:

And whosoever hath seen thee, being so fair,

Two things turn all his life and blood to fire;

A strong desire begot on great despair,

A great despair cast out by strong desire. [1-14]

Swinburne implies that one will grow weary from the perverse pleasure of blind love, and, negating his celebrated view of androgyny in "Fragoletta," he depicts and even possibly satirizes the conventional Victorian ideal that a hermaphrodite's inadequacies leave it tainted and grotesque, suitable only for the "blind love that comes by night." Using "love" interchangeably with the terms sex or gender, he instructs that one who loves this androgynous being, or even the being itself, should "choose of two loves and cleave unto the best," thus providing further indication of the tragic social and sexual inadequacies of the double-sexed figure both literally and figuratively. Swinburne further emphasizes the inevitable "despair" that awaits the lover of an androgyne: "And whosoever hath seen thee, being so fair, two things turn all his life and blood to fire; a strong desire begot on great despair." However, the tragedy and suffering of this type of love remain so blind that the na�ve lover of the androgyne will perish by means of his desire, thus remaining oblivious to the desperation of his enthralled state; thus, "a great despair cast out by strong desire." Discussing the ways in which Love will abandon the androgyne, Swinburne continues this poetic discourse on the rejection, exploration and desperation of the grotesque in the following sonnet,:

Love made himself of flesh that perisheth

A pleasure-house for all the loves his kin;

But on one side sat a man like death,

And on the other a woman sat like sin.

So with veiled eyes and sobs between his breathe

Love turned himself and would not enter in. [23-28]

Personifying love, Swinburne reveals the perversity of the androgyne, the figure composed of the body of a "man like death" and a "woman like sin." Thus, as Bashant states,

the statue becomes, not a balanced being of Greek perfection, but rather female beauty with masculine parts grafted onto it. The hermaphrodite's double body parts, which, when separate, appeal to either male and female desire, together, appeal to neither. Only blind love seems satisfied (13).

This idea relates to the forms of androgyny present within the interpretation of homosexual desire as displayed within "Fragoletta," which represents another Victorian connotation of the grotesque in terms of the violation or rather rebuttal of conventional gender mores. Thus, when the sexually separated androgyne appeals to both "male and female desire," or when the sexually unified androgynous figure also appeals to both realms of desire, this crossing of gendered norms also represents a form of androgyny and or perversity. The following sonnet in "Hermaphroditus" alludes to this idea, as Swinburne questions the fate of the hermaphroditic figure and its relation to and association with Love:

Love stands upon thy left and thy right,

Yet by no sunset and by no moonrise

Shall make thee man and ease a woman's sighs,

Or make thee woman for a man's delight.

To what strange end hath some strange god made fair

The double blossom of two fruitless flowers? [33-38]

Ending the final part of the sonnet with an allusion to hermaphroditic genitalia similar to that described in "Fragoletta" — "the double blossom of two fruitless flowers" — Swinburne ends "Hermaphroditus" with the final allusion to Metamorphosis:

Yea, sweet, I know; I saw in what swift wise

Beneath the woman's and the water's kiss

Thy moist limbs melted into Salmacis,

And the large light turned tender in thine eyes,

And all thy boy's breathe softened into sighs

But Love being blind, how should he know of this? [51-56]

This final sestet describes the curse of hermaphroditism, "tied to effiminancy and impotency," beset upon all men who feel "the water's kiss" of Salmacis's pool (Bashant 12). As Ovid's myth states that Hermaphroditus willed that all men who bathed in Salmacis's pool would be cursed by the water's ability to transform them into half-men, when the narrator states that "I saw what swift wise beneath the woman's and the water's kiss thy moist limbs melted into Salmacis . . . and all thy boy's breathe softened into sighs" "he the viewer, saw breaths turn into sighs. With Ovid's story controlling the events of the poem, the sighs cannot be sighs of pleasure, but rather of resignation, as the 'sweet' turns from an ideal image to unmanly imperfections" (13). Thus, the multiple meanings and layered connotations of the word androgynous within Swinburne's work becomes apparent, as the term incorporates various interpretations of the act of side-stepping traditional conventions regarding gender and sexuality, both literally and figuratively. Thus, the androgyne, with "its sterile, super-sexual body . . . becomes both monster and god, both deformity and possibility" within then avant-garde psychology of the Victorian Aesthete.

Thus, by means of the study of the layered meanings and connotations of the term androgynous, "or literal hermaphrodeity" (Dellamora 69), and its appearances both literally and figuratively within Swinburne's Poems and Ballads, most specifically in "Fragoletta" and "Hermaphroditus," one is able to successfully trace Swinburne's sexual, philosophical and psychological explorations of the Victorian definition of the perverse and grotesque. This utilization of grotesque imagery and indecent subject matter remains typical of Victorian Aesthetes, as does the "corollary use of allusion almost entirely for emphasis or effect — as opposed to more traditional allusions both for effect and also to locate a work or statement ideologically" (Landow). It can be inferred that Swinburne's affinity for perverted or grotesque subject matter fits into this definition of the "corollary use of allusion," as the "fascination which sexual ambiguity held for Swinburne . . . seems beyond that of one who was consciously homosexual. He stands outside that" (Morgan 65). Thus, his Baudelairien use of perverse and androgynous imagery and subject matter remains a purposeful attempt towards certain aesthetic literary affects. "Swinburne, then classes himself among those who believe 'that the poet, properly to develop his poetic faculty, must be an intellectual hermaphrodite, to whom the very facts of the day and night are lost in a whirl of aesthetic terminology," as he himself affirmed, "great poets are bisexual; male and female at once" (Dellamora 69). One can even infer that this stance on intellectual androgyny transfers to an ideology that revolves around the idea of the "perfect spiritual hermaphrodite," as Swinburne "imagined a primordial sexlessness in man" (Landow), an imagination similar to the Coleridgean idea that "all opposition is a tendency to re-union." Thus, the presence of the androgyne within Swinburne's work not only relates to his "investigations of sexuality" and conventional ideas regarding gender mores and moral and immoral associations, but to the idea of the "eternal androgyne," the perfect poetic human being that is "male and female . . . without the division of flesh" (quoted by Landow).

References

Bashant, Wendy. "Redressing Androgyny: Hermaphroditic Bodies in Victorian England." Journal of Pre-Raphaelite Studies. New Series 4: Fall 1995, pp. 5-27.

Dellamora, Richard. Masculine Desire: The Sexual Politics of Victorian Aestheticism. Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina Press, 1990.

Hare, Humphrey. Swinburne: A Biographical Approach. New York: Kennikat Press, 1970.

Harrison, Anthony H. "Pre-Raphaelite Love." The Victorian Web. Accessed on 17 December 2004.

Landow, George P. "Swinburne's Philosophy of Androgyny." The Victorian Web. Accessed on 17 December 2004.

Lee, Elizabeth. "Victorian Theories of Sex and Sexuality." The Victorian Web. Accessed on 17 December 2004.

Morgan, Thais E. "Perverse Male Bodies: Simeon Solomon and Algernon Charles Swinburne." Outlooks: Lesbian and Gay Sexualities and Visual Cultures. Eds. Peter Horne and Reina Lewis. London: Routledge, 1996.

Rossetti, William Michael. Swinburne's Poems and Ballads: A Criticism. London: John Camden Hotten, 1866.

Swinburne, Algernon Charles. Poems and Ballads & Atalanta in Calydon. Ed. Kenneth Haynes. London: Penguin Books, 2000.

Swinburne's Philosophy of Androgyny
George P. Landow, Professor of English and the History of Art, Brown University

[Victorian Web Home —> Pre-Raphaelitism —> Authors —> A. C. Swinburne]

According to Antony H. Harrison, Swinburne's investigations of sexuality derive from a philosophical (or religious) position. "Death and the achievement of organic continuity with the universe represent the end and culmination of sexual passion for the major figures in most of Swinburne's early poems" (87), and at the same time many of his male figures have traits usually considered feminine and his women have those considered male.

Swinburne imagined a primordial sexlessness in man which precluded the strife of passions men now suffer. This ideal of the "perfect spiritual hermaphrodite" can be seen, like Yeats's Byzantine spirits, as a mystical vision of the prelaspsarian harmony of soul which characterized man before incarnation [birth], or as the asexual organicism to which he returns after death. . . . As Swinburne remarks of Blake's conception of the eternal androgyne, that being is "male and female, who from of old was neither female nor male, but perfect man [ie human being] without division of flesh, until the setting of sex against sex by the malignity of animal creation. . . . Swinburne was hardly alone in his hermaphroditic quest. As A. J. L. Busst has demonstrated, the figure of the androgyne permeates nineteenth-century literature. (89)
CA
How does this interpretation of Swinburne's mystical philosophy relate to his political and landscape poetry? Does the sensuousness and decadence of "Dolores," "Laus Veneris," and similar poems make this argument more or less likely?

THE VICTORIA WEB IS A GREAT REFERENCE SITE, 

WHICH HAS BEEN ONLINE SINCE 1997!!!

SWINBURNE WAS GOOD FRIENDS WITH ANOTHER FAMOUS VICTORIAN MORAL REPROBATE;CAPTAIN SIR RICHARD BURTON. SWINBURNE WAS QUEER, HE ENJOYED BEING WHIPPED AS WE CAN SEE IN DOLORES, OUR LADY OF PAIN.

HE WAS LIKE THE UKRAINIAN AUTHOR OF VENUS IN FURS; MASOCH, A MASOCHIST, A WORSHIPER OF THE GODDESS AS DOMINATRIX. HIS BISEXUALITY 

WAS ALSO WELL KNOWN, AT THE TIME AND WAS USED AGAINST BURTON WHEN HE WENT UNDER COVER INTO AFGHANISTAN TO FIND THE ENGLISH OFFICERS 

WHO WERE FREQUENTING THE REGION TO GET BOY BRIDES. THAT THESE OFFICERS WERE INFLUENTIAL IN THE EAST INDIA COMPANY, GOT HIM INTO A SITUATION WHERE HE ACTUALLY HAD A DUAL TO MAINTAIN HIS HONOR AS A STRAIGHT MAN AND AN OFFICER. HE WAS UNCEREMONIOUSLY TURFED OUT OF INDIA. BURTON WAS AN OUTSPOKEN PROMOTER OF FREE LOVE AND POLYGAMY.

THIS IS THAT OTHER 19TH CENTURY THAT WAS ANYTHING BUT VICTORIAN.

THE DIVINE ANDROGEN ALSO APPEARS IN THE SCOTTISH RITE OF FREEMASONRY AND IS EXPLAINED IN THE FINAL CHAPTERS OF MORALS AND DOGMAS BY ALBERT PIKE ITS FOUNDER. IT WAS AN UNDERLYING THEME OF THE OCCULT 19TH CENTURY IN THE NEW AND OLD WORLDS. WHETHER THROUGH THEOSOPHY OR PSEUDO ROSICRUCIANISM OR ALCHEMY 

IT IS SAID PARIS HAD 50,000 ASTROLOGERS, AND 15,000 ALCHEMISTS, OF COURSE WHICH IS RIDICULOUSLY UNTRUE, THE NUMBERS WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE LIKE 1500 ASTROLOGERS AND 500 ALCHEMISTS, THAT BEING SAID IT SHOWS THE PLUTONIAN UNDERCURRENT OF THE OTHER 19TH CENTURY.

Androgyny and Hermaphroditism in Graeco - Roman Antiquity

https://scholar.lib.vt.edu › ejournals › ElAnt › Brisson

by ER OKell

Sexual Ambivalence: Androgyny and Hermaphroditism in Graeco-. Roman Antiquity ... applying Greek and Roman terminology indiscriminately to sources from either culture ... e.g. 'Psychology and Alchemy' in Collected Works 12 (Princeton 1968). ... Brisson finds the origins of the cosmos through 'Archetypes' (not. Jungian ...

The Hermetic Λόγος: Reading the Corpus Hermeticum as a Reflection of Graeco-Egyptian Mentality

Dissertation zur Erlangung der Würde eines Doktors der Ägyptologie
Vorgelegt der Philosophisch-Historischen Fakultät der Universität Basel
Von Gurgel Pereira,
 Ronaldo Guilherme Von Rio de Janeiro - RJ, Brasilien

https://edoc.unibas.ch/1270/1/Diss.Ronaldo.Nov.2010.pdf

Abstract:
This study analyses Hermetic literature and focuses on the seventeen treatises of the so called Corpus Hermeticum. It takes as its starting point the assumption that what are nowadays known as the Philosophical Hermetica emerged as a product of a Graeco Egyptian process of self-perception. As will be demonstrated, Hermetic literature helps our understanding of how reformulations of symbolic universes led to a specific Graeco-Egyptian mentality. The Hermetica will be treated as the result of cross-cultural exchange between Greek and Egyptian symbolic universes. Hermetic literature will
therefore be analysed according to its historical context, i.e. as part of a Greek-Egyptian dialogue

If you desire to read writings, come to me and I will have you taken to the place where that book is that Thoth wrote with his own hand, when he came down following the other gods.
 ―Setne Khamwas and Neferkaptah‖ (Setne I) – Pap. Cairo 30646 = M. Lichtheim, Ancient Egyptian Literature III. (Los Angeles: 2006), p.128


Acknowledgements
Egyptology is not a subject traditionally taught at university in Brazil. Only few choose to study
ancient Egypt and even fewer are actual Egyptologists. In most cases the enthusiasts for the land
of the Nile are Historians, Anthropologists, journalists and alike. I have to admit that I was no
better off when I arrived in Basle; I held a bachelor and a master‘s degree in History and had
done research that focused on the Greeks‘ perception of and relations with Egypt in the
Classical/Hellenistic period.
 The project of writing my dissertation began to take shape in 2005. I had only recently
received my M.A. and commenced correspondence with Prof. Dr. Antonio Loprieno from the
University of Basle. He later kindly introduced me to my advisor, Prof. Dr. Susanne Bickel,
who reviewed my project and interviewed me in August 2006. I would like to express my
gratitude to Prof. Bickel for the guidance and advice she offered me at meetings and debates. I
regard it as one of my greatest achievements of the past four years to have been able to win her
favour for my project.
 I also wish to thank all my lecturers, in particular the people who taught me some ancient
Egyptian languages. I received help with Demotic from Dr. Andreas Stauder and Dr. Jullie
Porchet-Stauder. Prof. PD Dr. Hanna Jenni introduced me to Classic Middle Egyptian, Prof. Dr.
Matthias Müller taught me Coptic.
 Thanks are also due to Dr. Undine Stabrey for her encouragement and support. From Berlin I
thank Dr. Sybille Schmidt, Dr. Barbara Janisch and my colleagues of the colloquium.
 I am also grateful to my colleagues, who patiently supported me and helped me prepare for
seminars and presentations. Learning Egyptian languages and having Egyptological debates was
a unique experience I will not forget. By the same token I will always remember the struggles I
went through while I tried to come to terms with the German language (I look back with a mix
of joy and shame to the days I spent trying to figure out when exactly the obscure ‗Egyptian
queen‘ ―Nebeneffekt‖ lived).
 I owe a special debt to the canton of Basel Stadt that supported me with a full scholarship.
This dissertation would have never existed had it not been for the Stipendienkommission für
Nachwuchskäfte aus Entwicklungsländern.
 I would like to take this opportunity to express the admiration and respect I have come to feel
for Switzerland and its people during the four years of my stay. I grew up in a country where
human life is considered to be of little worth. Dignity and justice are treated as mere
commodities. Having this background and viewing Switzerland with my Brazilian eyes makes
me realise how hard it would be to explain the respect people here have for another to my
compatriots. Thus I would like to thank the Swiss for the ‗culture shock‘ they offered me which
broadened my horizon. Basle and Switzerland have certainly taught me much more than just
Egyptology. I will always carry these experiences with me.
 A special thank you goes to my German teacher Hellena Brinner, her mother Ekaterina,
priest Dimitrios Korakas and the Hellenic-Swiss community of the Greek Orthodox Church at
Münchenstein. I thank them for their hospitality and friendship.
 Last but certainly not least, I would like to thank my friends Sabine and Sandro de Gruttola,
who kindly welcomed me in Switzerland and helped me at the beginning of my stay. My
gratitude also goes to my father Airton Pereira, who financially supported me. Furthermore, I
would like to thank my wife, Daniela Gurgel, for her unrelenting support and encouragement
whenever I needed it.
 I would like to thank God for helping me with my dissertation. He guided my hands and
heart until the very end of this chapter of my life.
O God, thy arm was here;
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all!
(William Shakespeare, Henry V, act 4, scene viii)

The Last Priests of Philae
Who were these priests? In this chapter, we will examine who the last priests of Philae
were, what functions they had, and how they dramatically disappeared from the scene.
As these priests dedicated most of the Late Antique inscriptions, they provide us with
a lively picture of the ritual practices and festivals they performed. However, the
inscriptions commemorating them end abruptly in 456/457, and we will try to find an
explanation for this sudden end to the inscriptional evidence.
https://www.rug.nl/research/portal/files/2921159/c4.pdf

Priests and Workmen

Almost a century ago, Walter Otto (1878-1941) published a comprehensive book on
priests and temples in Graeco-Roman Egypt.297 Unfortunately, his standard work has
never been followed up regarding the subject of priests.298 Although detailed studies on
specialised topics abound, a systematic, coherent and up-to-date account of this aspect
of Egyptian religion in the Graeco-Roman period is still a desideratum.299 To take the
case of Philae, although the material discussed thus far demonstrates that the
combination of Greek and demotic inscriptions can add considerably to our
understanding of priesthood, many texts from Philae, spanning the whole GraecoRoman period, still remain to be studied. It is therefore necessary to pay some
attention to priesthood in the Graeco-Roman period before we concentrate on the
priests of fourth and fifth-century Philae.
Otto divides Egyptian priests of the Graeco-Roman period into two groups
according to Greek terminology by comparing famous bilingual or trilingual
documents like the Ptolemaic Rosetta stone and the decree of Canopus. He subdivides
the higher priest class (flere›w) into five subclasses (fula¤). The ‘high priests’
(érxiere›w) come first, then the ‘prophets’ (prof∞tai), followed by the stolistai
(stolista¤), and finally the pterophorai (pterofÒrai; singular pterofÒraw) and
hierogrammateis (flerogrammate›w), who are more or less equal in status.
Unfortunately, Otto’s approach is one-sided and analyses from a Greek perspective.
Consequently, he does not take into account the many different nuances in Egyptian
terminology which exclude a one-to-one equivalence of Greek and Egyptian titles.
Moreover, one priest could have several titles, both administrative and religious, and
these titles varied from time to time and place to place.
The complexity of the Egyptian priesthood can be illustrated by listing the
several functions of the different kinds of priests. High priests and prophets were in
charge of the rituals of the temple. The stolistai were concerned with the garments of
the deity, but also with various other aspects of the temple cult, such as prayers,
hymns, inspection of sacrificial animals and offerings. The hierogrammateus had to
find and inspect holy animals, take part in synods of priests and temple
administration, compose priestly decrees and, finally, to test potential priests on cultic
purity and writing skills. His titles are in hieroglyphs rx-xt, ‘savant’, or Ty(?) pr-anx,
‘member of the House of Life’, and in demotic sX pr-anx, ‘scribe of the House of Life’.
Although the exact difference with a hierogrammateus is still open to debate, it is
generally accepted that a pterophoras designates a priest whose main concern was
writing. His title is in hieroglyphic sšw mDA.t-nTr, and in demotic sX mD-nTr, ‘scribe of the divine book’.300 In general, we can say that the higher priests were divided into Hm-nTr (‘prophets’) and wab (‘priests’). According to Greek terminology, the ‘high priests’, ‘prophets’ and stolistai belonged to the ‘prophets’ (Hm-nTr), but the pterophorai and hierogrammate is to the ‘priests’ (wab). The Greek term ‘prophet’ (profÆthw) could therefore denote both a specific function and a general designation of the highest priestly offices (Egyptian Hm-nTr). Moreover, in addition to being a designation of the priestly offices lower than the ‘prophets’ (Egyptian wab), the Greek term ‘priest’ (flereÊw) was also a general term for higher priests (both Hm-nTr and wab). In addition to the priests who were paid by the temple, other people also worked in the temple, earning a living from private consultation, who were not strictly regarded as ‘priests’ (flere›w) by the Egyptians themselves. However, as we generally refer to Egyptian temple personnel as ‘priests’, we will call them ‘lower priests’ to discriminate them from the ‘higher priests’.301 The most important of these ‘priestly’ people were the pastophoroi (Greek pastofÒroi, Egyptian wn) whose precise functions remain as yet obscure.302 What we do know is that they were responsible for guarding the temple area, and that they interpreted dreams.303 Besides these lower priests, there were a number of workmen (§rgãtai) involved in the temple cult.3

HEALTH AND MEDICINE IN ANCIENT EGYPT: MAGIC AND SCIENCE
Paula Alexandra da Silva Veiga
https://vtechworks.lib.vt.edu/bitstream/handle/10919/71526/477_1.pdf?sequence=1

Introduction…………………………………………......10

1.State of the art…..…………………………………...12
2.The investigation of pathology patterns through
mummified human remains and art depictions from
ancient Egypt…………………………………………..19
3.Specific existing bibliography – some important
examples……………..………………………………...24
1. Chapter: Sources of Information; Medical and Magical
Papyri…………………………………………………..31

 1.1. Kahun UC 32057…………………………..33
 1.2. Edwin Smith………………..........................34
 1.3. Ebers……………………………………….35
 1.4. Hearst………………………………………37
 1.5. London Papyrus BM 10059……..................38
 1.6. Berlin 13602; Berlin 3027; Berlin
3038……………………………………………………38
 1.7. Chester Beatty……………………………...39
 1.8. Carlsberg VIII……………..........................40
 1.9. Brooklyn 47218-2, 47218.138, 47218.48 e
47218.85……………………………………………….40
 1.10. Other papyri.……………………………...41
 Ramesseum III, IV e V e VIII a XVI
 Insinger
 Berlin 3033 (Westcar)
 IFAO Deir el-Medina 1, Cairo
 Leiden I 343-I 345
 Schøyen MS 2634/3
 Tebtunis
 Yale CtYBR 2081
 Louvre
 Rubensohn (Berlin 10456)
 Vindob 3873
 Vindob 6257 (Crocodilópolis)
 Turin 54003
 Anonymus Londinensis
 Louvre E 4864
 Borgia
 IFAO Coptic Chassinat
 Greek Papyri
2.Ostraca……………………….………………………50

3.Mummies…………………………………………….51
 3.1. Origin of the word and analysis formula;
«mummy powder» as medicine………………………..52
 3.2. Ancient Egyptian words related to
mummification…………………………………………55
 3.3. Process of mummification summarily
described……………………………………………….56
 3.4. Example cases of analyzed Egyptian
mummies …………………............................................61
 2.Chapter: Heka – «the art of the magical written
word»…………………………………………..72
 2.1. The performance: priests, exorcists, doctorsmagicians………………………………………………79
 2.2. Written magic……………………………100
 2.3. Amulets…………………………………..106
 2.4. Human substances used as ingredients…115
 3.Chapter: Pathologies’ types………………………..118
 3.1. Parasitical..………………………………118
 3.1.1. Plagues/Infestations…..……….……....121
 3.2. Dermatological.………………………….124
 3.3. Diabetes…………………………………126
 3.4. Tuberculosis
 3.5. Leprosy
……………………………………128
 3.6. Achondroplasia (Dwarfism) ……………130
 3.7 Vascular diseases... ……………………...131
 3.8. Oftalmological ………………………….132
 3.9. Trauma ………………………………….133
 3.10. Oncological ……………………………136
 3.11. Dentists, teeth and dentistry ………......139
 3.12. Gastroenterological/ hepatic ………….142
 3.13. Urinary/Renal ……………….................146
 3.14. Psychiatric …………………………......152
 3.15. Genetic ………………………………...153
 3.16. Respiratory …………………………….153
 4.Chapter: Medical-magical prescriptions and used
ingredients.....................................................................156
 4.1. Ingredients……………………………....157
 4.1.1. Vegetable……………………………...157
 4.1.2. Animal………………………………..157
 4.1.3. Mineral……………………………….161
Conclusions…………………………………………..163
Bibliography………………………………………….168
Annex I – Egyptian Flora with medicinal-magicalreligious properties.......................................................206

ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE IN ANTIQUITY 
TOPOI – Dahlem Seminar for the History of Ancient Sciences Vol. II
Klaus Geus and Mark Geller (eds.)

https://www.mpiwg-berlin.mpg.de/Preprints/P454.PDF

2014

Esoteric Knowledge in Antiquity– SOME THOUGHTS

Mark Geller & Klaus Geus
Freie Universität Berlin

One benefit of an interdisciplinary approach is the surprising result which can follow from the
confrontation of the same idea between disciplines. A case in point is the concept of ‘esoteric
knowledge’, to which the present collection of articles is devoted, which will trace the framework of esoteric knowledge from Babylonia to Greece and into Christian thought, highlighting similarities and differences within each episteme. The journey is rather crooked and full of potholes.

Moreover, the expression ‘esoteric’ is used today rather indiscriminately. Within the
category of ‘esoteric knowledge’ one understands a variety of related expressions, such as
‘mystical’ or ‘occult’, as well as the more concrete ‘absolute’ or ‘elevated’ knowledge, which
can also be considered as ‘hidden’, ‘secret’, or ‘inaccessible’, and even ‘fanciful’ or carried
away. The confused pattern of such definitions advocates a look at the historical development
this concept.

The term ‘esoteric’ originates from the Greek for ‘inner’, not however with the sense
of ‘psychic’, ‘spiritual’, or ‘mystical’, but with a purely local meaning of being ‘further within’ something. The antonym is ‘exoteric’, namely ‘external’. There is no corresponding terminology in Babylonia, although the concept of knowledge exclusively reserved for scholars
increasingly appeared in colophons of cuneiform tablets emanating from the scribal academies and royal libraries, such as that of Assurbanipal of Nineveh (mid 7th century BCE).
These colophons make the matter quite explicit: revealing the contents of a particular academic tablet to someone uninitiated (literally ‘not knowledgeable’) is a taboo of a god. But what
kind of composition contains such hidden (or esoteric) knowledge?

This question is not easy to answer. On one hand there are neither terms for or any textual evidence for ‘esoteric’ versus ‘exoteric’ knowledge, since neither category is defined, although there is an implicit assumption of ‘insiders’ (lit. mudû ‘learned’) and ‘outsiders’ (lit. la
mudû, ‘not learned’) among possible readers of the tablets. Beyond this crude distinction in
colophons, there are references to secret knowledge or lore often associated with divination,
such as niširti bārûti, ‘secrets of the art of the haruspex’, and such secrets were occasionally
associated with a particular location, namely the bīt mummi. This place was originally the
secluded workshop in a temple where idols were either repaired or manufactured, accessible
only by priests skilled in this type of sensitive work, and even if only a metaphor, the bīt
mummi clearly distinguishes between insiders and outsiders.

In fact, it was likely that all disciplines maintained this distinction between those who
were mudû and la mudû, between initiated and uninitiated, in a particular discipline. What is
not clear is whether these terms could refer to other scribes or scholars not trained in a specific discipline (e.g. astronomy/ astrology, medicine, liturgy), or whether the phrase was simply meant to exclude anyone who was generally thought to be unschooled. We have little information about any serious rivalry or competition between scribal academies, either in different cities or temples, or even between scribes who were experts in specific areas of knowledge. Academically animosities probably existed then as it does now, but clear statements of such are hard to find.

There are Sumerian and Akkadian compositions from scribal academies which appear
to reflect esoteric or mystical knowledge, on a par with later Kabbalistic writings, and these
are obvious candidates for defining a category of esoteric texts; they remain virtually impossible to comprehend, but they refer to themes such as the Chariot of Marduk which remarkably reflect something of the Merkavah Mysticism of medieval Jewish texts. Such texts are
exceptional and do not represent the full range of academic compositions most often prohibited to the uninitiated. As is so often the case in Mesopotamia, we are not guided by any ancient secondary literature or philosophical treatises, which would help pave the way for us to
comprehend ancient Sumerian and Akkadian scholarly writings; the commentary texts which
we have (also ‘esoteric’) are themselves frustratingly cryptic and abbreviated.

Nevertheless, the contrast between Babylonian and Greek concepts of what constitutes
such knowledge is rather revealing. The Greek expressions for esoteric and exoteric were
mostly employed in reference to ancient mystery cults, such as the Eleusinian mysteries or
Mithra-cults, in which one must first be ‘consecrated’ in a special ceremony and afterwards is
prohibited to reveal any of the knowledge acquired during the initiation, under pain of death.
This constitutes ‘secret knowledge’ in a real way.

From ancient mystery cults, the concepts of esoteric and exoteric knowledge spread to
Greek philosophical schools. Exactly in the same way that initiation was instituted among
these cults which mandated a special, secret kind of knowledge, so Greek philosophical
schools of Pythagoras and Plato conveyed special kinds of knowledge and teachings among
their closest disciples which were not to be communicated to others. These privileged students
Esoteric Knowledge in Antiquity were known as ‘Esotericists’, while all those beyond the immediate circle of the initiated were known as ‘Exotericists’; Pythagoreans also recognised the esoteric categories of mathematics and acousmatics.

Modern usage has reversed these relationships, at least as far as the value of knowledge is concerned, since in contemporary language ‘esoteric’ almost exclusively reflects fanciful and speculative knowledge. We must therefore distinguish between original ancient concepts in which ‘esoteric’ implies higher, deeper, and even better knowledge, in contrast to today’s understanding of esoteric as secret, marginal, and relatively worthless knowledge.

These concepts of esoteric and exoteric have undergone a profound change of perspective in
the course of the history of these terms.

Science per se is perceived as a set of rules derived from abstract propositions. Beginning with empirical observation, carried out under specific conditions, scientists propose
causal relationships, e.g. if someone does A, then B will result. These kinds of causal relationships may also offered by priests and shamans, by sticking needles into a voodoo doll or tossing fingernails into a fire in order to cause harm to one’s enemies or rivals, or alternatively if
an astrologer associates events in a person’s life with the sun’s progress through the Zodiac.

On the other hand, a Christian believer might see miracles in a similar light, as expressions of
some higher or divinely inspired knowledge, which would allow healing to take place at the
mere touch or presence of a famous personage or saint, such as Simeon Stylites.

The question is how to balance such claims within the various frameworks of ancient thought. Here distinctions can be made between different types of healing or magical events, such as healing
through technical rituals, recitations of incantations, or therapeutic prescriptions (all esoteric
knowledge of sorts), verses the direct inspirational healing of a famous wonderworker, such
as Apollonius of Tyana.

How, in such cases, can we distinguish between esoteric and exoteric knowledge? One criterion would be simply to ask how well informed we are about those ancient techniques which could be considered esoteric. One good example, black magic (mentioned above), is clearly a type of illicit knowledge not shared by everyone except those trained in it, and in fact few textbooks of black magic are known from antiquity; mostly we know how to defend against witchcraft rather than actually employ it. Within the pagan world, the boundaries between the various kinds of esoteric and exoteric knowledge remain somewhat confused.

In the same way that Babylonian divination was labelled as niṣirti bārûti, ‘secrets of
the art of the haruspex’ (see above), the art of dream interpretation was a widely known and
practiced secret techne in the ancient world, best known through the writings of Artemidorus.
It is difficult to know how this knowledge actually operated and whether dreams reflected
actual realities or were limited to flights of imagination. It seems clear, however, that dreams
were firmly rooted in the geography of everyday life and reflected the normal landscapes of
human life, although within a theoretical mantic framework aimed at predicting the future.
Nevertheless, the associations between visions and dreams and their interpretations constitute
another grey area of esoteric knowledge, in which the associative thought processes which
produce the predictions are never actually expounded or even discussed in ancient texts, but
are assumed to be the private knowledge of professional dream interpreters.

With the advent of Christianity, the situation changes, since to some extent the distinction between religious and secular knowledge becomes sharper; the former is based upon faith
and belief, while the latter is perceived as being more scientific and rational. This brings us
back to schooling and the tensions between studies of rhetoric, philosophy, and logic within
the secular curriculum contrasted with religious training, which emphasised acceptance of
dogma and homilies, and faith-based teachings. Without doubt, however, is the picture of insiders and outsiders, ie. those who either accept or fail to accept Christian faith as part of their
world view and approach to ‘true’ knowledge.

This brings us into the murky world of the Hermetica and Gnostic wisdom, which contrasts with the philosophical views of philosophers devoted to discovering the laws of nature.

The boundaries are not always as clear as one might think, since certain kinds of questions
(eg. the composition and mortality of the soul) could be debated universally among all brands
of scholarship. There is also little doubt that Platonic-style philosophy and Aristotelian logic
was also applied to Gnostic wisdom, which itself was dedicated to the kind of secret knowledge which would lead to salvation and reward in the afterlife. Nevertheless, a basic difference between philosophy and gnostic thought was the element of secrecy and whether relevant ideas could be openly discussed and debated, or were these ideas only available to an inner circle of subscribers and co-believers. It is this characteristic of secrecy, of Geheimwissen, which probably reflects the most profound differences between esoteric and exoteric knowledge.

CONTENT
Chapter 1: Esoteric Knowledge in Antiquity – Some Thoughts
Mark Geller & Klaus Geus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Chapter 2: Secret of Extispicy Revealed
Netanel Anor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Chapter 3: Scenes with Two Bes Figures from Nimrudand the Second Step of Bes
Toward Globalisation
Adrienn Orosz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Chapter 4: Near Eastern origins of Graeco-Egyptian Alchemy
Matteo Martelli / Maddalena Rumor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Chapter 5: Traum und Raum in den Onesikritika des Artemidoros von Daldis
Gregor Weber . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
Chapter 6: On the Use and Abuse of Philosophy for Life: John Chrysostom’s
Paradoxical View of Knowledge
Jan R. Stenger . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
Chapter 7: Esoterisches Wissen im Platonismus und in der christlichen Gnosis
Christoph Markschies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Chapter 8: Priesterliches Kultwissen in den philensischen Graffiti des 4. und 5.
Jahrhunderts n. Chr.
Jan Moje . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Chapter 9: Ein syrischer Hermes? Anmerkungen zu esoterischen Traditionen im
syrischen Medizinbuch
Stefanie Rudolf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
Chapter 10: Self-Knowledge, Illumination and Natural Magic: Some Notes on Pico
della Mirandola’s Esotericism and Its Ancient Sources
Adrian Pirtea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
About the Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199

TOPOI – Dahlem Seminar for the History of Ancient Sciences
The Dahlem Seminar for the History of Ancient Sciences is an initiative resulting from
cooperation between the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science, Berlin, and the Topoi
Excellence Cluster. Future events are intended to foster stronger links between scholars at the
Max Planck Institute, Freie Universität and Humboldt Universität, under the overall aegis of
the Topoi Excellence Cluster. The Dahlem Seminar for the History of Ancient Sciences, under
the direction of Klaus Geus and Mark Geller, organises an annual colloquium series on various
innovative themes in ancient scholarship and knowledge transfer.

ALCHEMISTS OR DYERS? THE ART OF DYEING IN THE GRECO-ROMAN EGYPT

Maria Julia Martinez Garcia

2019, TEXTILES AND DYES IN THE MEDITERRANEAN ECONOMY AND SOCIETY, 
PV VI
27 Pages
1 File ▾
https://www.academia.edu/38656397/ALCHEMISTS_OR_DYERS_THE_ART_OF_DYEING_IN_THE_GRECO-ROMAN_EGYPT

Alchemy,
Ancient Greek Philosophy,
Natural Dyes and their applications

Abstract: Egyptian papyri from the Greco-Roman period and the Greek Alchemists Corpus, dated approximately to the 3rd and 4th centuries AD, contain interesting recipes for the preparation of dyes and colourants for textiles, as well as other materials, such as stone, glass and metal. The professional dyers of Greco-Roman Egypt (infectores, offectores and the collective of crafts- men in general) practiced rituals or magic incantations, which specified the best time to open their workshops, or to protect their inventions. Craftsmen operated in workshops equipped with sets of specific instruments, similar to those described in treatises on alchemy. These similarities raise the question: what was the connection between the dyers of these specialised workshops and alchemists? What interests motivated these two groups to engage with each other? Did the Greek dyers and alchemists exchange raw materials or ideas? This paper reviews the possible links between the dyers and the alchemists who knew the formulas de- scribed in the Greek papyri and other texts. This relationship was likely linked to the demand for clothes and cloths dyed with colours that imitated the precious shellfish purple dye, by a growing, wealthy “middle class”.
Keywords: Greek papyri, Ancient alchemy, Craftsmen, Dyers, Alchemists


Résumé: Les papyrus de l’Égypte gréco-romaine et le Corpus des Alchimistes Grecs, datés du IIIe au IVe siècles, contiennent des recettes intéressantes pour la préparation de teintures et de pigments pour les matières textiles, ainsi que d’autres matériaux tels que la pierre, le verre ou le métal. Nous savons que des teinturiers professionnels de l’Égypte gréco-romaine (infectores et offec- tores et collectif des artisans en général) connaissaient et pratiquaient des rituels ou des incantations magiques qui précisaient le meilleur moment pour ouvrir son atelier ou pour protéger leurs inventions. Du même, les artisans ont travaillé dans des ateliers équipés de leurs instruments spécifiques, semblables à ceux décrits dans les traités sur l’alchimie. C’est à cause de ce fait que l’on pourrait se demander: ces teinturiers, qui travaillent dans des ateliers spécialisés, quels étaient les liens qu’ils maintenaient avec ceux des alchimistes? Quels sont les intérêts qui ont motivé ces deux groupes à s’engager dans ces relations? Il y avait l’écha … View full abstract

MAGIC AND MAGICIANS IN THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD

 Matthew W.Dickie

MAGIC AND MAGICIANS IN THE GRECO ROMAN WORLD This absorbing work assembles an extraordinary range of evidence for the existence of sorcerers and sorceresses in the ancient world, and addresses the question of their identities and social origins. From Greece in the fifth century BC, through Rome and Italy, to the Christian Roman Empire as far as the late seventh century AD, Professor Dickie shows the development of the concept of magic and the social and legal constraints placed on those seen as magicians. The book provides a fascinating insight into the inaccessible margins of GrecoRoman life, exploring a world of wandering holy men and women, conjurors and wonder-workers, prostitutes, procuresses, charioteers and theatrical performers. Compelling for its clarity and detail, this study is an indispensable resource for the study of ancient magic and society. 

Matthew W.Dickie teaches at the University of Illinois at Chicago. He has written on envy and the Evil Eye, on the learned magician, on ancient erotic magic, and on the interpretation of ancient magical texts

ROUTLEDGE 2003 

CONTENTS

Preface v

Abbreviations vi

Introduction 1

1 The formation and nature of the Greek concept of magic 18

2 Sorcerers in the fifth and fourth centuries BC 46

3 Sorceresses in the Athens of the fifth and fourth centuries BC 77

4 Sorcerers in the Greek world of the Hellenistic period (300–1BC) 93

5 Magic as a distinctive category in Roman thought 120

6 Constraints on magicians in the Late Roman Republic and under the Empire 137

7 Sorcerers and sorceresses in Rome in the Middle and Late Republic and under the Early     Empire 156

8 Witches and magicians in the provinces of the Roman Empire until the time 

   of Constantine 195

9 Constraints on magicians under a Christian Empire 242

10 Sorcerers and sorceresses from Constantine to the end of the seventh century AD  263

Notes 310

Bibliography 355

Index 365